


wrest from our own hands a future

by KaelsMiscellany



Series: absolve your blood stained honor [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Assassins, F/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-06 17:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: Slade gave Cassandra one goal: to reunify the League of Assassins, with her, him, and Talia as it's leaders. First though she needs tofindTalia.And if her spies are correct this strangely familiar young man might just be the key to doing that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this is the fastest I've ever written a multi-chapter fic (a week from start to finish). Ultimately inspired by #18 in my _Moments in Time_ fic. Although doing further research into that possibility meant far more timeline wrangling than I thought it would take.
> 
> This first chapter takes place during issues 4-5 of Lost Days for Jason. For Cass this is before the Robin: Wanted storyline, but still in keeping with the 'drugged/controlled by Slade' timeline. Then it's all gonna go into AU land from there.
> 
> Fic title comes from "Pyre" by Son Lux, series from "Peacemaker" by Jesca Hoop.

Cassandra awakes slowly, her whole being seeming to protest the shift in state. She lies there, staring up at the opulent ceiling and sighs. Despite the urge to stay in bed she has work to do.

Effort she wishes she didn't have to spend gets her out of bed. She showers, takes her morning lithium pill, and dresses.

Leaving her chambers she spends the next few hours in the training hall, more for her students benefits than her own—she's already proven herself the best fighter in the world, what more training does she need? It's only when her body almost revolts that she goes to the kitchen to eat breakfast.

It's more out of necessity than pleasure that she eats, although she's been assured that the cook here in the compound is one of the best.

She's halfway through her breakfast—and wondering if she can make herself eat the rest—that Jale enters. "My lady," Jale bows, holding a folder to her chest.

Cassandra wonders if she'll ever get used to being called that, after the past year and a half she thought she would have. "What is it?" Jale's proven herself to be a good assistant, precise and orderly. She knows not to bother Cassandra unless she has to, it's what makes her good at her job.

"We've found Talia."

Interest is barely more than a blip in the general haze of Cassandra's life. Which doesn't stop this from being good news. "Where?"

Jale hands her the file.

Pushing her breakfast aside Cassandra opens it and flips through. There's not as much as she'd like, but the photos are clear. Talia al Ghul, in a pub outside of London—if her spy's notes are correct—with a young man. Something about him sparks as familiar, but she can't quite place it. "Who's he?" She taps his cheek. Young, fairly scruffy looking, some would perhaps call him handsome.

"We haven't been able to find a real name," it must be buried deep then. "But there are a few e-mails we've managed to intercept from Talia, combined with sightings of a man fitting his description in the company of people mentioned in said e-mails, that we believe he's called Epicyon."

She might know the value of codenames and secret identities, but that doesn't mean she likes them. "What's an Epicyon?" It has to have meaning if Talia's used it. She's an al Ghul after all, she's as poetic as her sister and father had been. Poetics might be all well and good, but it's so...fanciful and imprecise.

"A type of prehistoric dog, they're apparently the largest dogs to have ever lived, and are known for being able to crush bones with their teeth."

"So he cleans up the leftovers." Apt, if Talia considered Cassandra and Shiva's branches 'leftovers'. "Who's he taken care of?"

Jale shrugs. "Hard estimates aren't easy to come by, he's good at being undetected. Talia's e-mails only give us six confirmed deaths, three from Shiva's faction, two from Talia's own, and one from ours." Curious, Talia must be intent on cleaning house as well as getting rid of the 'riff-raff'.

"Which one of ours?"

"Thaddeus Moon, arms dealer. He sold drugs as well. We've managed to place this 'Epicyon' in Moon's company for a few months before Moon's death."

Cassandra taps the photo again. "Ready a jet for me, I want to meet him in person." He might just be the key to catching Talia and her heir. Win them to her side and Talia's assassins would follow. Then she can take out her mother for good.

"Yes my lady. You will miss your meeting with the Titans if you go however." Jale's voice is as bland as Cassandra feels, merely reciting the info.

Hmmm, Slade won't be happy about that. But he'll understand. "Send Deathstroke my apologies and arrange another day for me to visit."

"Should I tell him why?"

Shrugging Cassandra stands. "Tell him it has to do with Talia, no more." He might have opened her eyes and brought her back into this world, but she doesn't owe him an explanation. Not yet at least. "If 'Epicyon' proves useful I can explain myself." At the least she can have him followed, see if he leads her to whichever hole Talia's pulled herself into.

Jale bows and leaves.

Alone Cassandra stares at the photo again. "How do I know you?"

-

London is a sprawling ocean of chaos. It...irks Cassandra. She's grown to used to the clean order of her compound, the clear lines of the Titans. Too many people with too many selfish desires their bodies scream at her and it's tiring.

She pushes herself through it though, she won't accept less from herself. Her spies give her an address for an abandoned tower of flats, where they claim Epicyon must live.

It's easy enough to fall into the old rhythm of a stakeout. Put herself in the building across the way, good window view of the entrance, and wait. With no distractions—no voices in her ear, no flashing smiles at poor jokes—boredom threatens to set in. She has patience though, patience enough to wait it out.

Night's beginning to fall when he finally arrives. She's hungry, she missed her nightly lithium pill, and there's a faint urge to just go there now and take him.

She wants to know who he is first though, wants to know his connection to Talia, why he's niggling at the edges of Cassandra's mind. So again, patience. A light turns on in a flat on the left side of the building a few minutes after he enters. His bolt hole then.

Leaving her own vantage point she grabs baskets of food at a local corner store—none of it is remotely healthy, but it will last and it will fill her up—before finding a new vantage point with which to study him.

-

Over the next few days she tails him. It takes far more of her skill than she thought it would. Epicyon's paranoid, and he's clearly been trained in spotting tails. She's been trained all her life never to be seen on the other hand. The dance is...entertaining.

He spends most of his days with a man named Ivanko—explosives expert, his current work is with Russian mobs, but before that he worked for Shiva. His evenings he occasionally spends with Ivanko, but most times he returns to his flat. Reads books, practices katas, stares at a wall she can't see from her own vantage point—there must be something there though, to hold his attention so.

Things begin to become much clearer however when events start to pick up.

Fighting with Russians in a warehouse, threatening Ivanko with a bomb—Epicyon's definitely one of Talia's. It's only when he dives into civilian crowds, trying to save them, that it all clicks in her head.

Epicyon's been trained by Batman.

Which means there could only be one person this is—she has spies watching her former family, making sure they don't interfere with her plans and keeping an eye on Tim in particular.

_Jason Todd._

The Robin who Batman claims died, beaten to death by the Joker.

Yet here he is, working for Talia, and saving people from a Russian engineered plot.

Batman hadn't lied when he took her to Jason's gave and told her what happened, but it seems not even the world's greatest detective knows everything.

Epicyon- _Jason_ will be far more useful than she could have ever hoped.

So when he's surrounded by Russian mobsters intent on killing him. Well, she can't let that stand.

It's easy enough to crash in through the window, everyone's surprise giving her plenty of time to start killing. In the end it's only her and Jason left standing. This close she can see they're about the same age, his eyes are a worn blue and they watch her warily. His whole body's relaxed, but there's tension there too. He doesn't quite know what to make of her.

"Well thanks for the assist." He doesn't holster his gun, but he keeps his finger off the trigger. She's dodged bullets before however. "Talia send you?" There's a blandness to his voice, but the question makes his face grimace, if only a little.

She takes a step closer. "Come with me."

"If I want to live?" He jokes. She doesn't get the reference, but it hardly matters. "Thanks, but I'm not interested in fighting off T-180s. If Talia sent you tell her thanks, but I can take care of myself. Unless you're some sort of vigilante. Gotta say, costume could use some work." There's a tightness around his eyes when he brings up vigilantes, no surprise. He's starting to get suspicious however and she needs to act.

"It was not a request." She moves. Nerve cluster in his shoulder first, numb fingers dropping the gun.

He tries to fight back, but he telegraphs like a child, he's had training yet it's all to easy for her to take him down. A punch to the temple knocks him out.

Pulling out her phone she calls one of her London contacts. She rattles of the address to her location. "Send a car, and ready my jet to take me and a guest back."

It will be far safer to talk to him when he's been isolated. She will use him brutally if she has to, but she hopes it will only take a few conversations to win him over to her side. Any dog will turn on his master if you give him the right incentive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting a chapter a day, so see you tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 2

Jason wakes up with a groan. That lady sure packed a wallop.

Slowly he sits up, noting his surroundings as he does. The room’s bland, very motel/hotel—if far nicer than either. Two doors, one’s probably the bathroom. No windows thought. His bug out bag and suitcase are both on the dresser against the wall.

Not spotting any _obvious_ cameras—there’s got to be at least one non-obvious one though, he’ll worry about it later—he stands and goes to them. Clothes, the books he’d been reading, his guns—hell, even the bullets—the photos he’d had up on the wall. This chick’d packed _everything_.

He stands there for a few moments, breathing deep and trying to keep himself focused. She’d seen the photo’s, but that didn’t mean she understood what they were. Most people, assassin’s included, didn’t think people came back from the dead, she wouldn’t know why photos of his... _replacement_ would gnaw away at him.

Putting them down he continues his investigation. Bathroom like he’d thought, he decides to take advantage of it while he still can. Who knows when he’ll next get a hot shower?

Dressing he arms himself too, just in case. On the nightstand by the bed there’s a piece of paper. Picking it up he’s surprised to find they’re directions.

With a shrug he decides he might as well, whoever this chick was went through a lot of trouble, it’d be the decent thing to hear her out. If he didn’t like what he heard than wouldn’t be that hard to get out, probably.

The directions lead him to a small dining room, with a buffet full of food.

The chick’s there too. She looks more...gussied up than before. Nice clothes, makeup, her hair’s been pinned up, she’s barefoot thought—so if push comes to shove he can break some of the glass and china. It’s not exactly weird, but what she’d looked like in the warehouse seemed more honest to him.

She’s got a half-eaten plate of food, and a pot of tea—the liquid in the cup by her right hand’s too transparent for coffee—by her elbow. Most of her focus is on the tablet on her left however, hands occasionally moving to type out something.

He’s certain she knows he’s here, but he makes a beeline for the food first. There’s a lot to choose from, but he sticks to the basics; eggs, bacon, hashbrowns.

“Aren’t you worried it’s poisoned?” The chick’s super good at asking questions and sounding disinterested. It’s impressive, a skill he’d sure as hell like to learn.

Setting his plate down with an intentional clatter he also makes sure his chair scrapes as he pulls it out—he’s willing to hear her out sure, but annoying her might also get him something she doesn’t mean to reveal. “Look sweetheart, you beat me, dragged me to who knows where-”

“Tibet,” she interjects.

Which throws him off some, fucking _Tibet_? How long’d he been out? “And let me have my guns,” it doesn’t quite end with the same energy he’d started with. “At that point I think you’re not planning on killing me anytime soon and can eat my damn breakfast. ‘Cause otherwise that’s a hell of a lot more effort to put into killing little ol’ me.” It’d be some supervillain over the top type shit at that point.

She inclines her head and he starts eating. “So,” he asks between bites. “I have a feeling you’ve got an advantage over me, least tell me your name.” Might be fun to keep coming up with ridiculous names for her though, a possibility.

“Cassandra Cain,” she doesn’t even look up from her screen. He’s starting to wonder if her indifference is an affect or just who she is. Wouldn’t be the first sociopathic assassin he’s met—be more surprising if she weren’t actually.

“Antony Miles,” he’s gotten used to giving out false names at this point. If she’s rifled through his stiff than he knows she’s seen about four other names he’s gone by, but none of the stuff he’s gotten have ever had his real name. Not yet, he’s keeping that for later. For when he really does go after Batman and the Joker.

“Jason Todd,” it’s said so absently that for a moment his brain doesn’t register it.

When it does though he feels his first real flash of fear. Deep breaths, can’t let her know he’s been shaken. _How does she know?_ She’d never said one way or the other whether she worked for Talia, but he doubts Talia would trust one of her operatives that much to give her his real name. So who the hell was Cassandra Cain?

An easy, affable smile crosses his face as he continues eating. “Well Cass-”

“Cassandra,” she corrects. For a second he thinks there’s emotion in her black eyes. They, however, are clearly black holes, that suck the emotion down before it’s got a chance to really show itself.

He still lets himself have an internal flare of victory, a weak point, finally. “ _Cass_. Mind telling me what I’m doing here?” If he addresses the name thing she’ll know she got to him, so just ignore it.

“Tea?” She lifts up the pot in offering.

She’s just as unlikely to kill him via tea than she is his breakfast. He’s still wary however. “Sure,” there’s already a tea cup next to him, he just holds it out for her to pour into. She fills it generously.

It’s habit that has him testing the temperature, just right, before drinking. It’s a flavorful, malty and rich, assam. As he makes that connection, sense memory overwhelms him. Doing homework in the library with cookies and a pot of Alfred’s tea, drinking cup after cup with him as they talked books. He reminds himself to swallow first before trying to breath again.

Cassandra’s expression might be neutral but it’s clear her attention is on him now. She doesn’t just know his name, she _knows_. There’s a threat there too, push me and I’ll push you right back.

The fear’s harder to wrestle back this time—probably because he’s got to force back all the memories of Alfred that are threatening to overwhelm him at the same time. “Who the fuck are you?”

She smiles, but like with her eyes there’s something missing to it. Like she’s seen other people smile and is only mimicking what she’d seen. Maybe she _is_ a supervillain of some sort. “You’re a detective,” she sounds so fucking placid and it makes him want to _shake_ her or something. She’s got to feel _something_ in there. “I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out.”

He bares his teeth in his own false smile. “What a ringing endorsement.” She knows he used to be Robin though, was trained by Batman and now a whole motley collection of criminals. If she didn’t think he’d figure it out she would’ve said so.

It’s a test. I know how good you should be, now prove it.

Challenge fucking accepted.

He takes another sip of tea and a few more bites of food. Taking the time to martial his thoughts and figure out a plan of attack. First things first. “Why am I here?” She probably expects him to keep pushing to know who she is, but he can hold off on that for now. See what she unintentionally tells him. He also just wants to fucking know.

She closes her tablet in it’s case, giving him the full weight of her focus. “I want your help in finding Talia.”

 _Not_ working for Talia then. Jason knows there are other factions of the League, but that Ra’s keeps them in line for the most part. They all jockey and squabble for his favor though. Jason’s clearly gotten himself caught up in a plot of some sort.

“Why should I?” He challenges. “So you can kill her?” Talia’s nominally Ra’s heir—Jason has to dig deep in his memory to recall that she has an older half-sister, who wasn’t interested in the League—but Ra’s was old fashioned enough to want a _male_ heir. Why he’d tried to recruit Bruce. This Cassandra here must know something, maybe Ra’s had another kid running around.

Cassandra snorts, it’s perhaps the first real flare of emotion, and even it falls a little flat. “No. I only want to talk to her. I want to convince her and her son to join with me. The League fractured as it is can’t do the good it should. By joining her forces with mine we’ll have enough to take down Lady Shiva and bring her flock back into the fold. Killing Talia would only make her a martyr and her people zealots.” Again something flickers across her eyes, only to be consumed. “You can’t reason with a zealot, only kill them. It’s...inefficient.”

Brrrr. Mr. Freeze should take notes. As chilling as it is, he’s got a feeling she’s telling the truth, as she sees it anyways. He owes Talia a lot, so finding out as much as he can will be worth it when he gets out. “She’s got a kid?” Not that Talia tells him her life story, but he’d thought he’d known her pretty well. “Yeah, pull the other one.” He didn’t doubt it was possible, just that Talia didn’t seem the type.

Opening her tablet again Cassandra opens something up and slides it towards him. “Our intel’s sketchy, but we think his name is Damian. If Talia knows who the father is she hasn’t told anyone. As the only two Al Ghuls left alive she’s kept him even more hidden than she used to.”

The photo’s of a kid, maybe six or seven, at Talia’s compound—Jason’s memories when he’d been comatose are vague at best, but he recognizes the place still. He’s got Talia’s dark skin and green eyes. His hair’s black though. Even though the pic was taken at a distance, with a telephoto lense, it’s clear to tell the boy’s scowling at Talia, who’s just barely in the shot.

“What do you mean ‘only two al Ghuls’?” She could be trying to lead him towards the conclusion she wants him to reach, she seems confident that if she talks to Talia they can come to an arrangement of some sort. For that she needs him, and would be playing on his relationship with Talia.

“Nyssa,”—the half sister he vaguely remembered—“grew tired of Ra’s indifference and killed him, she and Talia split the League between the two of them. Since she wasn’t able to have children Nyssa named me her heir when I came to her the second time.” There’s a story in there, Jason’s sure. “My mother thought _she_ should be the heir and killed Nyssa, while most of the League stayed with me some believed Lady Shiva and left me.” Harsh, also the fact that Lady Shiva had a daughter and Bruce didn’t know about her speaks volumes. Cassandra shrugs. “I believe the League should no longer be split and so wish to join my part with Talia’s, as co-leaders. Together we should be more than enough to deal with Lady Shiva.” She leans back in her chair, an air of expectancy about her.

He wishes he could get in contact with Talia, confirm the story. He has a feeling though if he tries it she’ll track whatever type of message he sends to get to Talia. Which means he’s got to use his best judgment. Luckily since this doesn't involve Bruce or the Joker he’s thinking pretty clear.

“Can I think about it?” Testing the boundaries some. Did Cassandra have a deadline? Or was she willing to wait? Was there other things she hadn’t told him that might have deadlines of their own?

“Yes,” she answers. “Take all the time you need, you’re a guest here in the meantime. If you wish exercise, my students will be more than happy to train with you. Please don’t kill them,” they way she says it implies wry humor without there actually being any. He’s not to pleased about being a ‘guest’ on the other hand. “Whatever you’d like we can get for you.”

She looks like she’s going to continue, but the door opens and a brown skinned woman in a geometric print headscarf sticks her head in. “Sorry to bother you my lady, but you have an important phone call.”

“Thank you Jale,” Cassandra rises. “If you would be so kind as to give Jason here a tour Jale I would appreciate it.” She leaves the room before Jale has the chance to respond to the request.

Jason really, _really_ , wants to follow Cassandra, to try and eavesdrop on whatever phone call she’s taking. The expression on Jale’s face however implies that she’s not going to let him out of her sight the full duration of the ‘tour’. Damn.

So he gives her a charming smile, she’s an assistant of some sort he’ll probably be able to smooth talk some info out of her. “Show me the way Miss Jale.”


	3. Chapter 3

While Cassandra might have agreed to join Titans East as part of her partnership with Slade she finds the rest of her ‘team’ lacking.

Inertia and Sun Girl are too wrapped up in each other and their importance, thinking being from the future makes them special. They whisper and glance like those ‘popular girls’ in the sorts of movies Steph loved, as if implying they’re talking about ‘your’ future. That if you asked they’d tell you. Cassandra knows what her future will be, she has no interest in knowing if it comes to pass or not.

Risk’s anger is useful, but she has no interest in coddling him to make sure he doesn’t turn on _them_. Which is why Slade’s the leader and she isn’t.

Kid Crusader’s zealotry is precisely the reason she seeks to avoid it in regards to the League. She’s sure someone else finds it fascinating to watch, but it tires her. Like all the others however he’s learned to leave her be.

Bombshell might be the least bothersome, but only by virtue of her never being here. Slade deciding she’d be the best mole out of the sorry lot he’d thrown together.

Duela and Enigma go together like tenements, full of people, on fire. Cassandra avoids them on principle. She’d had enough madness in her life when she’d been in Gotham, she doesn’t need more.

Perhaps the only person she avoids more than the two of them is Match.

It’s a good thing she no longer has a heart, because being around him would be a blow to that heart every time. Am awful reminder that Kon was _dead_ , and that she could never mourn him like he deserved. Even with no heart being around a copy of a copy of a copy of a boy she’d loved if only for a moment is _cruel_.

Perhaps when Slade no longer needs his ‘Titans’ she’ll put Match down, he’s dying anyways after all. It’d be a mercy, like putting down a rabid dog. Something to contemplate.

“Batgirl, a word if you please.” Slade’s voice cuts through her sparring with Risk. She lets him out of the pin she’d had him in and goes to Slade. Following him towards her quarters. She prefers the ones she has in Tibet, but these are serviceable.

“What is it?” She knows he still needs to give her her shot, but it’s clear he wants to talk as well.

“As partners, it disturbs me that you didn’t give a real reason why you missed your usual appointment.” He takes a seat in the only chair.

She perches herself on the desk and pulls off her cowl. Being in her old suit is always a strange experience now, it feeling too confining after everything she’s been through. “I thought you trusted me,” she shoots back. “I’m supposed to get the scattered parts of the League back together while you give us a firm footing with which to lead it.” Hence this whole ‘Titans’ group.

He inclines his head, eye watching her closely. “I do trust you, so long as our communication is clear. What were you investigating?”

“Who,” she corrects. “His name is Epicyon,” she’s grateful for a change for Talia’s theatrics. It means she can talk about Jason without revealing who he is just yet. “He’s been working closely with Talia for two years now, she meets up with him on a regular basis. I have him at my compound and hopefully I’ll convince him soon to reveal her location.” There’s no impatience in her voice, even though she’d rather be in Tibet than here. Who knows what Jason’s getting himself into while she’s away. Snooping at the least.

“Thank you,” he gives a sort of smile that she thinks is supposed to be ‘smile I don’t share with anyone else, don’t you feel special?’ She doesn’t, by his own design. She wonders if he knows that.

He pulls a syringe out of his belt, she pulls down the neck of her suit to give him better access.

The pain is a fleeting kiss, one that goes hazy as the serum courses through her. The pain isn’t the only thing that goes hazy.

“Remember Cassandra,” Slade prompts.

“The first thing an assassin kills is their heart, and dead hearts feel nothing,” she recites.

“Good girl,” his gloved hand cups her cheek. “Soon you and I will rule the League as partners.” Yes. “Now go to sleep Cassandra. In the morning you can return to Tibet, make sure this Epicyon’s as useful as you say he is. We’ll have to move quickly if you’re right.”

His hand leaves and she gives a dreamy sort of hum. “Yes Slade.” She stands as he turns off the light and shuts the door.

In darkness she dances to the bed before falling into it and slipping into sleep.

-

Jale is waiting for her at the airstrip when her plane lands. “How much chaos did he cause?” Jason might be part of the League now, but even that it seems couldn’t curb his curiosity—it’s perhaps why his trainers have ended up dead.

“Not as much as you think,” Jale responds. Together they walk to the waiting car. “He’s trained with some of the more advanced students, he fights well. He’s snooped around all of the public and a few of the private rooms. When he’s not snooping or training he reads in the library. So far he hasn’t seemed to have made any contact with Talia.”

As expected, he’s paranoid that they’ll trace whatever contact he makes. He’s not wrong, but she rather he deliver Talia willinging. “Has he tried to leave?” The rumble of the car is soothing as it drives.

“Not yet,” Jale answers. “He’s getting antsy though, you returning so quickly is welcome.” The relief in her voice is evident.

“Should I be making him apologize for making you so anxious?” She might not care in the true sense of the word. But these are her people, she would be a bad leader if she didn’t look out for their well being.

“No, my lady, that won’t be necessary. I appreciate the offer however.” Cassandra doesn’t understand why Jale’s smile is amused, but she trusts her assistant knows what she’s talking about.

The rest of the drive passes in silence. Allowing Cass to plan how best to both distract Jason and win him to her side. Perhaps telling him who she is? She did challenge him to find out for himself, but he might connect with her more knowing he’s not the only member of Batman’s ‘family’ to fall.

Slade expects results quickly, but Jason won’t be rushed.

Sex might work too. He’s still emotional enough that it would form something of a connection.

“We’re here my lady.” Jale’s voice breaks her from her plotting.

They are indeed at the compound. Cassandra can’t help the sense of satisfaction at seeing her work laid out so cleanly. “Thank you Jale. Take the rest of the day off.”

“My lady?” Surprise thrums through all of Jale.

“You deserve it.” Cassandra doesn’t plan on elaborating more than that. Jale does deserve it after all. She works hard and Cassandra knows the woman hasn’t taken a day off yet. “Go.” She doesn’t try to give a smile like she would’ve Jason, Jale knows her too well.

“Thank you my lady.” Jale inclines her head before hurrying inside.

Cassandra follows more slowly. One of the groundskeepers directs her towards the training grounds when she asks where Jason is.

He’s sparring with Pyotr, one of her more promising students. Smoothly she kneels next to Angelica at the edges of the mat.

Jason could fight with more precision, but he fights well. Even now after years of being trained by others she can see Bruce’s hand in the way he fights. How he holds back from truly injuring Pyotr. Which is good, she needs all the able fighters she can get.

Jason wins, if only just. He helps Pyotr up and gives him a slap on the back. The two sharing a friendly laugh. Jason’s peters off when he notices her. “Cass,” he grins.

The familiarity...itches. No one’s called her Cass since she worked for Batman. Ire flares briefly, but the haze from the lithium pulls it under. If he dares to be familiar than she’ll just have to teach him a lesson.

“A match?” She promises herself she’ll go easy on him this time...just a little.

Her students don’t say anything, but she sees the excitement rustle through them anyways. An excitement that only grows when Jason gives a lazy smile. “Sure.” He rolls his shoulders and loosens his stance.

Cassandra rises, already she can see his most likely attack—a left hook followed quickly by a knee to her stomach—that doesn’t stop her from sinking into a defensive form. Her head tilting in challenge.

Lazy smile turning sharp Jason attacks.

She grabs his wrist with a hand as the left hook comes. Twisting the both of them puts him on one leg by the time the knee comes up where she no longer is.

Jason’s a quick thinker though, grabbing her wrist with his own hand and giving up his balance to pull her down on the ground. Letting go of his wrist she slips her own free and manages to win top position in the end.

She can feel his hands move to flip them, but her hands move quicker. Curling around his neck and pressing down enough on his windpipe. “Yield?”

He stares at her for a long second. “Yield.” Her hands loosen and she stands. He waves off her hand up. “Another?” She’ll beat him again, but it doesn’t stop this from being...fun. Here she doesn’t have to guard herself like she does with the Titans. Jason might learn how she fights, but she doesn’t think he’ll use it against her just yet. Now while she’s still a mystery to be solved.

“Could go all day,” he pushes himself up with a groan. A few of her students laugh—she hadn’t _quite_ forgotten they were there—and he flips them off. He gives himself a shake as he stands, then thumbs his nose. “Let’s dance.”

A dance is it? She doesn’t let him get the first hit this time. How did he do in close quarters?

He might weigh more than her, but he still wobbles as she crashes into him. Using those precious seconds she sweeps around, climbing up onto his back.

His shoulders bunch and she braces herself against his dislodging her. Arms reaching over his head he grabs her shirt and _yanks_. Even with her bracing he pulls her up and over, tossing her to the ground. His boot rises up, but she rolls and jerks at his other leg—he gives up his balance too easily when he thinks it’ll get him the strike.

Jason hits the ground moving, pushing his body towards her to get her in the thigh. She lets the blow land, the pain bright even through her haze, only to roll onto _him,_  pinning him down. Elbowing the side of his knee, he yelps, she moves up. She gets him _lightly_ in the groin when he starts to move. He doesn’t let that stop him though, his fist landing on her side. It hurts, but doesn’t wind her like he’d planned.

She pushes her boot a little harder into his groin. “Yield?”

“Yeah, Christ,” he wheezes.

Again she climbs off him. Her students are growing bored and more than a few begin to leave. Good. This time when she offers him a hand up he takes it. “You’re good.”

“I know,” she agrees.

This time there’s no agreement on another round. Using his hold on her hand he jerks her towards him. It unbalances her, but she flows into it soon enough that she gets _some_ recovery. Jamming her own boot atop his own. He grunts, but doesn’t let go, punching her in the same spot he did last time.

Old and new pain meld together. She tries to win her hand free, but his grip grows tight enough to squeeze bone. She punches him in the solar plexus, and again when he doesn’t let go. He _still_ doesn’t let go.

Changing tactics she turns and bites his arm. He shouts and lets go. She skips a few steps back, licking the blood off her lips.

“Gonna get you for that.” His stance shifts, lowering his center of gravity.

She says nothing in response, only licks her lips again.

It doesn’t surprise her that he doesn’t charge, Jason can be patient when he needs to be. He turns with her as she steps around him, not letting her get his back. Smart, but she has another goal in mind this time around.

She charges. He might have changed his center of gravity, but she’s short enough that she can reach it easily, again sending the two of them crashing to the ground.

This time she doesn’t try to pin him, but kisses him.

Surprise means he doesn’t react right away, leaving the kiss only the press of lips on lips.

His hands grip her hips, pulling her closer, and his mouth opens. She doesn’t have much experience with kissing, but Jason doesn’t seem to either. The both of them fumbling along well enough. When she pulls away that lazy smile from earlier is back. “Gotta say, prefer that to you kicking the shit out of me.”

She slugs him in the shoulder. “Yield…”

“I hear an ‘or’ on there,” he moves his own hips. She’d felt him hardening underneath her, but the awareness of it becomes... _more_ when he moves.

Rising onto her knees she grabs his hands in her own. Peeling them off her she stands and hauls him up again. “Or go somewhere else?” She doesn’t actually care much _where_ they have sex, but she doubts he would appreciate someone stumbling across them.

“Mmmmm, somewhere else sounds worlds better than here.” His grin curls in a way she supposes is meant to be charming, but it only makes her think that this is going better than she expected. Better to do this before he finds out who she used to be. Makes it more...interesting.

She leads him through the compound back towards her own quarters. When the door closes behind them she pins him to the wall, which becomes slightly less effective when she has to climb up him to kiss him again.

He’s smiling as they kiss, but he doesn’t try to say anything. Just settles his hands again on her hips, which lets her move more freely without having to worry about falling off. His skin is warm under her fingertips as her hands slide under his shirt.

In stops and starts they undress, eventually stumbling away from the wall and to her bed. She’s content to let him lead, it’s _nice_ for her, but the wash of pleasure she has memories of from before she partnered with Slade is absent as always. What she gets out of it doesn’t matter though, not when it’s about him.

Calloused fingers ghost down her belly, she opens her legs when he gets to the crease of her thighs, his goal apparent even without reading it from him.

Sparks flare and die when he teases her clit for a heartbeat, fingers continuing to move. She feels them press in then...pull away.

“You want this right?” Blue eyes stare into hers intently.

The question...doesn’t make sense, she’s the one who started it after all. “Yes.”

His forehead lands between her breasts, his hair tickling her in unexpected ways. “Yanno I’ve never had sex before,” an admission she hadn’t even thought would come from him. “But I know full well you should be wetter down there.”

Ah. “Lube,” she flings a hand towards her bedside table. If that’s his only problem it’s an easy enough fix.

Jason tilts his head so that it’s his chin resting in the valley of her breasts not his forehead. Like the first question the frown on his face doesn’t make sense to her. “You know both parties are supposed to enjoy sex right? Is this your first time?”

“No, I’ve had sex twice.” Once when she was with the Outsiders, then once after she’d partnered with Slade. She’s sure Jason thinks sex should be more like the first time she’d had it rather than the second, but she doubts that’s possible for her now. “It’s fine. I do want this.” He’s not unhandsome and would be a good partner for the time being.

The frown on Jason’s face thins, unhappiness thrumming in every line of his body. It’s directed at her but oddly enough not _at_ her. A finer distinction escapes her. “Can I...try something?” There’s hesitation in his voice. He did say this was his first time however, perhaps if she didn’t have this haze keeping her safe she’d be more of a partner he expects. She’s not going to let that stop this on the other hand.

“Yes.” The trust isn’t as rational as she’d like—even if he kills people now he’d still been _Robin,_ why does that mean she trust him? Yet there’s enough that she can’t deny it.

He gives a little nod. “Tell me if you don’t like something,” his tone brooks no argument and it’s almost funny.

His hands press her legs further apart as his head kisses his way down her body. Propping herself up on her elbows she watches. She’s got a good idea of what he’s planning on doing, but doesn’t expect it will help as much as he thinks it will. She’s not going to stop him though.

She twitches in surprise when his hot breath fans across her clit. Again she can feel his smile as he presses closer, tongue licking a broad stripe up her labia and clit. This time when he breathes the sensation is _cold_ and she twitches again. He keeps this up for longer than she expects, seemingly content with just breathing on her. Varying the rhythm enough that she can’t quite predict it as well as she’d like. It’s...disconcerting.

Finally he changes things up, hands moving closer, fingers peeling her apart.

But again he keeps things...slow.

Cassandra can tell her heart beat’s picked up and so has her breathing, which doesn’t change the fact she doesn’t _feel_ anything. Granted she’s hardly as in control as she thought she’d be when she’d thought up the idea. For this being his first time he seems less inclined to just...dive right in and get himself off than her other two partners had been.

She’s not exactly at his mercy, but she wonders if he knows he’s got the upper hand a it were?

Oblivious to her thoughts he begins to lick and suck, fingers moving every so often as if to test for something.

The sensations all build something in her, but it feels completely detached from her _self_. As if her brain and her body are two seperate things and… “Stop.”

He does stop, pulling away to look at her. There’s concern in his gaze and she lets herself slip, back hitting the bed, rather than keep looking at it. “Cassandra?” Concern in his voice too, so even not looking at him she can’t escape it. How has he survived this long in the League with such a caring heart?

“I...can’t.” She should lie, tell him it’s fine and he should continue. Yet even in her haze that feels like a greater betrayal of self than everything else she’s done up to now—she’d always been a killer after all, even when she’d tried to escape it. Her heart might be dead, but it seems there are still aftershocks, even after all this time.

Jason moves, so he’s lying beside her. “Okay.”

They lay that way together in silence, Cassandra doesn’t know how long. Only that it’s an unexpected relief. She has to restructure her plan, but she’s good at thinking on her feet. Turning onto her side she props her head on her shoulder, just watching him for now.

“What?” His own head turns slightly, his hair shades his eyes and it makes him look his age.

“What do you want Jason?” Perhaps it’s a question she should have asked during their first conversation. Figure out what he wants instead of assuming. There has to be _some_ sort of plan in his head, otherwise why go through all this training?

He moves, echoing her position. “The chilli cheese dogs you could get at 48th and Lansing in Gotham, they’re the best in the city.” Reaching out she flicks his forehead. He bats her hand aside with a smile. “Alright, alright.” The smile that blooms on his face dies away as quickly as it appeared. “I want the Joker, beaten to death and blown up for good fucking measure.” His eyes begin to turn icy. “I want Batman to see it, then I want to kill him too.”

It should surprise her, the rage and hate in him. Her heart is dead though, all her mind can do is compare him briefly to Risk. They both might be angry, but Risk’s anger was at the world, Jason’s was _precise_ , so precise she hadn’t even known it existed until now.

Even under the rage and hate however she can still tell one of those statements is a lie.

“Do you really want to kill Bruce?” Her naming him is intentional. Because Batman is a concept, something you can’t kill even if you killed the person under the mask. Someone else would take up the mantle and continue the Mission. Jason has to know that, so she’ll push him. See what truths she can extract.

His face tightens at her question, displeased that she’s questioning him. And yet… “Yes,” is what his voice and mouth say. The rest of him screams ‘no’.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourself for Jason angst, all of it even.

Honestly this isn’t how Jason expected his day to go. Sparring with Cassandra, to almost having sex with her, to her straight out questioning him. On that last part there’s a minor allowance for the fact that she didn’t know. Yet it’s hardly even a shock to him that she knows Bruce is Batman. His snooping didn’t tell him as much as he’d like about her, but it was safe to assume if she knew who he was she knew who Batman was.

Hell it’s not even later afternoon yet, who knows what else the rest of the day might bring.

Her hand returns to him, not to flick him but to rest over his heart. “If you want to do that let me give you a piece of advice.” He resists the urge to snark until after she’s finished. “The first thing an assassin must kill is their heart,” her tone suggests she’s reciting someone else. “Dead hearts feel nothing.”

“Is that what you did?” It escapes him without him really meaning too. It’s a crueler question than she deserves, especially with the implication behind it.

Her expression never wavers. “Yes.”

Jason makes himself _look_ at her, Cassandra who claims to have killed her own heart. She’s certainly done _something_ to keep herself from feeling and...he feels... _empty_ just thinking about it. He’s been alive-alive for almost two years now and to even think about giving up his hate, his _rage_ , that have been more faithful to him than any actual person ever has. It’s...wrong. They are _his_ hate, his rage, his _grief._ Without them why would he care what happened to the Joker, to Bruce? Without them who would he be?

“I think I’d rather die again first,” his own certainty is comforting in a way.

Perhaps the good thing about her eyes being black holes is that there’s not even a drop of pity in them as she speaks. “Then you’ll fail.”

“I won’t,” he won’t _let_ himself fail. “I almost already killed Batman once you know. Took me nearly four fucking hours but I got close enough to put a bomb on the Batmobile, was going to blow it up with him inside.” There’s an urge to _move_ and Jason shifts, sitting upright and leaning against the headboard, fingers digging into his hips.

Cass moves as well, and Jason finds himself absently realizing the difference between naked and nude. “Why didn’t you?” Her question is innocent enough, but there’s something brewing in her, it remains to be seen what exactly. Jason only knows he needs to brace for it.

“Because he wouldn’t know it was me. I need him to know it was _me_ that killed him, that killed the Joker. I need him to know I can do what he never could, that I’m _better_ than he’ll ever be.”

Her head tilts, and he has to keep himself from flinching slightly when her hand cups under his chin. “So you think Batman should have killed the Joker for what he did?”

“Yes,” it’s been Jason’s pole star for so long now.

Her nails dig into his skin, yet the rest of her is as calm as ever. It may be impressive, but he still finds he hates it. “What makes you so special Jason?” Perhaps the most cruel thing is that she sounds as she always does. “What makes you so different that he should break his greatest tennant? If he couldn’t kill the man who murdered his parents why should he kill _your_ murder?”

“ _Because I’m his son!”_ Rage courses through him, making him uncaring that his voice breaks and he sounds ruined more than angry.

Cassandra bears his rage like a boulder bears the ocean crashing against it. “You’re not his only son, not even his only child.” There’s something there, and perhaps if he weren’t so angry he’d be able to examine it better.

As it stands he can only keep going. “I was the first though! Even before he adopted Dick he adopted _me_.” He’s crying, but he has to keep going. “That means something! How can he keep living knowing the... _t_ _hing_...that murdered his first son is still in the world, killing others? Others like me. Others who _don’t deserve to die_.”

She’s...hugging him. It’s not quite a bucket of cold water on his emotions, but it’s so unexpected he can only be surprised.

It’s perhaps only a rote sort of comfort, she runs a hand through his hair, hums nonsense tunes. Yet it _works_. He clings to her, unable to remember the last time he cried like this. So deep and broken that by the end of it he feels hollow.

Gently she untangles him from herself. She doesn’t go far though, only getting the blankets out from under them and covering them. He doesn’t resist when she pulls him close, entangling her limbs with his own. “Sleep.” As if to demonstrate she nestles her head in a pillow and closes her eyes.

A snort leaves him, but he’s got the feeling she’s not going to let him go soon. Taking the other pillow Jason closes his eyes and does his best to sleep.

-

When he wakes up the light coming from the windows is weaker, maybe a little after sunset? While they’d slept Cass had untangled herself from him, turning until she’d been facing the wall and not him.

It means he only has to move slowly when he climbs out of bed thankfully. Finding his boxers on the floor he tugs them on and goes exploring. Her rooms hadn’t been ones he’d managed to get to while she was gone. Now that he’s here passing up the opportunity feels like it’d be a crime in and of itself.

Unlike his room she’s got three doors. One’s the closet—interesting, but would take too long to go through at the moment—another leads to a sitting room/the exit, the third leads to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him he flicks the light on, blinking quickly to get his eyes to adjust.

She’s got a full on jacuzzi tub to go with her shower and he’s kind of jealous. It’s also not exactly that important to his investigation.

The bathroom counter’s a mess of jars and containers. He gives each a brief once over. Makeup, facial care products—some he recognizes from the few times he’d been in Bruce’s own bathroom—toothpaste, normal boring type stuff.

Yet scattered among them is a pill bottle. Picking it up he gives it a shake, the two pills left in it rattling around. There’s no prescription label—no surprise there—but there’s cramped writing on the lid. _Lithium, twice daily._

It takes him a few seconds, but he manages to dredge up everything he remembers from Bruce’s lessons. Toxic, but in small doses helped with mood disorders. Yet the dosage couldn’t be enough to make Cass as numb as she seemed to be—those levels he’s certain would be far closer to toxic. Was she on something else too?

He puts the bottle back where he finds it. While he doesn’t like it if that’s how she’s ‘killed her heart’ she’s a fucking adult and could make her own choices.

Turning the light back off he goes back into the bedroom. Cass’ breathing is even and her body’s relaxed, still asleep. Good.

There’s less light for him to work with in her room, but he can’t risk turning on a light or anything for fear of waking her up. Sure she might’ve challenged him to find out who she is, but that doesn’t mean he wants her to _watch_ him figure it out.

He also fumbles around more than he’d like, he wasn’t exactly able to get a good layout of the room a few hours ago. Too caught up in sex, then in anger. Some of that anger still lingers— _how_ dare _she question what he wanted?_ The rest’s faded away however. She’s an assassin after all, manipulation’s part of the game.

Jason almost trips over the suitcase.

Sitting down he slides his fingers all over it, seeking out a zipper or a lock. He finds a lock, but it’s a cheap one, the sort any tourist would be able to buy in an airport. More there for appearance than anything else.

It’s flimsy enough that he’s able to open it with a swift squeeze and jerk of his hand—he’ll apologize for it later.

Clothes, clothes, a pair of shoes, another pill bottle, travel sized bottles of shampoo and the like. He hits the bottom of the suitcase sooner than expected. False bottom then. Like that’s going to stop him. Uncaring of her finding out what he’s done, he piles up everything next to him, leaving the suitcase bare.

Again his fingers search, but he doubts this will be as easy as getting into the suitcase itself.

He’s...wrong as it turns out. All there is is a simple catch and the false bottom pops up. There’s something long and not dark inside, but everything else looks pitch black in the dim light.

His fingers feel leather, and grabbing it he pulls it up to try and get a better look.

Even with such little light it’s hard to miss the familiar symbol stitched out on the chest.

Batgirl. Cassandra Cain is Batgirl.

Light fills the room from behind him. Giving him enough to see the rest of her black suit, and the yellow utility belt. He drops the suit though, instead turning around to see Cass watching him from the bed. Like always her expression gives away nothing.

“Batgirl?” He doesn’t know if he can even be angry about it. She _did_ invite him to figure it out after all. “Do your assassin friends know who’s your real boss?” Is that why she wants to get to Talia? Because Bruce wants something? Wouldn’t be the first time he’s used someone else to get what he wants.

“He’s not my boss, he never was.” She gives a shrug. “I haven’t seen him in over two years in fact.” Sitting upright she pushes her hair out of her face. “You’re not the only one who left him.”

Jason bets Bruce just _loves_ that. “Why keep the costume?”

Another shrug. “I still use it from time to time. Just for different reasons.” How many times has that fact come across Bruce’s radar? How much does it worry away at the edges of his mind? That one of his own _chose_ to become a villain? She pats the bed next to her. “Now you know.”

Leaving the suitcase he goes and sits. “So what am I then? An object lesson? How not to fuck up?” He can’t help the bitter note that fills his voice.

Cass moves so that she rests her face on his bicep, he gives a small start. For someone not interested in having sex she’s being more physical with him than he expects. “After I’d figured out that Bruce was Batman.” _Of course_ she had to figure it out on her own. Bruce wouldn’t tell a secret even if it meant saving his own life. “He took me to your grave once.”

Her fingers run up and down his arm. “He told me what happened to you, I don’t think he realized he was crying by the end.” Jason starts to pull away, but Cass’ ghost of a touch becomes hard. She’s not going to let him go any time soon. Her grip relaxes when he does. “He misses you, I don’t think he’s ever stopped missing you.”

A derisive snort leaves Jason. “Didn’t take him long to replace me,” being bitter is better than the alternative right now. The alternative means starting to let go of his anger and that’s _his_.

Something that Jason’s pretty sure is supposed to be a laugh leaves her. “Tim didn’t give him much of a choice. He’d known who Batman and Robin were for a long time, followed them for years. You vanished and Bruce started being...harder, Tim said. So Tim cobbled together his own costume and confronted Batman.” Even if she’s deadening her emotions there’s still a whisper of fondness in her voice. “When Bruce was telling me what happened to you he said he almost stopped being Batman.”

“No, no way. Bruce giving up Batman?” It’s inconceivable. That’d be like him...committing suicide of a sort. Batman was the only reason Bruce Wayne still existed.

Her fingers pinch the inside of his elbow. “I did say almost. He kept going though, because he said you’d be so mad at him if he stopped, that there were still people in Gotham that needed his help and _you_ wouldn’t have rested until it was done.”

It hurts in a way to think back on the kid he used to be. Angry yes, but driven to help people. To make sure criminals didn’t hurt those who didn’t deserve it. Doing his best to make sure there weren’t other kids who would’ve turned out like he did if Bruce hadn’t taken him off the streets.

That kid _would_ have been mad if Bruce had stopped being Batman, perhaps a far greater betrayal of Batman than Bruce killing would have. Jason falls back onto the bed, taking Cass with him. Thoughts racing around in his head. “If he cared that much about me why didn’t he do anything about the Joker?” There’s no scathing anger this time, no hatred. He sounds like a lost little boy.

Cass pushes herself up so that she’s looking down at him. Very pointedly her hand moves down and pinches a nipple, _hard_. “Ow!”

“You’re not special Jason, you matter, but that doesn’t make you as special as you want it to be.”

 _Now_ anger begins to rise up, giving him a comforting ground to stand on. “I _died_.”

Her expression somehow becomes more flat that usual. “I’ve died too you know, _twice_. If not for the Lazarus pits I’d _still_ be dead. You came back to life and all you can focus on is the past. I took my rebirths as they were meant to be, a chance to make my life better.”

“Well _my_ life would be better if the Joker were dead,” he mutters it. Too unwilling to give up his anger. “So what do _you_ want then?” The question almost sounds more like an accusation.

“The League whole again.”

He has to hold back on rolling his eyes. “And after that?” Now it’s a challenge.

She doesn’t answer right away, but he can wait for his answer. “Rule the League,” even as emotionless as she is there’s even more of an absence in her voice. “I’d hoped I’d be able to convince Tim to leave Batman as well, to become another partner in this endeavor. Maybe I’ll still get the chance. In the end it doesn’t matter to me what happens to me. All that matters is the work.”

How Batman of her.

 _That_ angers him too. He doesn’t let himself think about it before he rolls on top of her, propping himself up so he doesn’t crush her. “Bullshit.” It’s all well and good to be selfless, but that’s going too far. “There’s got to be one selfish desire somewhere in the nooks and crannies of your brain.” He’d prefer ‘heart’ but he’s got a good idea how she’d respond to _that_.

She stares at him for a good long minute, but even with her expression he can tell her brain’s working. Probably weighing the pros and cons of whether to lie or come up with a truth. If Batman’s failed protoge’s can’t trust each other, at least a little, what else can they do?

At the end of that long minute Cass breaks her gaze, head turning to the side. “I have a friend, Steph, she was Robin for a little while too actually.” Jesus. Yet the fact that there have been _two_ Robins since his death makes him...less angry about being ‘replaced’ than he thought it would. As irrational as that is. “But by the end of it she’d...started being targeted by Gotham’s gangs. As herself, not only as Robin. So she faked her death, ran away. She lives in New York now. I want to see her again someday, give her a spine crushing hug. Eat waffles and catch up.”

There’s something like a heart in Cass after all, as much as she might insist otherwise.

Jason shifts from on top of her onto his side, content not to say anything in response. After a few seconds though he pulls himself upright again. “I...I need to think about shit.” This whole conversation’s gone places he never expected and he wants to put it all together, wear it out until he’s familiar with it.

“Alright.” She reaches out and lightly grabs his wrist. “Like before Jason there’s no rush. I don’t want to push you towards any choice you don’t want to make.”

He nods, shakes his wrist free, stands, grabs his clothes, and leaves.

-

A week passes. Like she promised Cass gives him space and doesn’t pressure him. Both things make him trust her, just that little bit more.

He still clings to his anger, although it’s changed. Part of him still very much wants to kill Bruce, the rest...is unsure. Jason’s afraid though that if he managed to find a way to talk to Bruce, Bruce would find a way to manipulate Jason into forgiving Bruce. Something Jason doesn’t want. He might not kill Bruce, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven the man for what he didn’t do.

Killing the Joker’s still on the table however.

The funny thing is that the easiest things to accept are that Cass used to be Batgirl and that she really does just want to talk to Talia—Cassandra might be an assassin now, but that didn’t mean she killed without thought.

He finds Cass talking with Jale in an office. He knocks on the doorframe and they both look up at him. “Hey, can I have a minute?”

“Of course. Jale?”

The woman stands and nods. “I’ll start arranging things for Pyotr and Angela.” She gives Jason a brief nod as she passes him—he’s glad she doesn’t seem to be all that mad about the whole library fire thing.

Jason goes in and takes Jale’s former seat. “I’ve decided I’ll talk to Talia for you, try to convince her to meet.”

Cass’ smile is almost real this time. “Thank you.”


	5. Chapter 5

Now that a meeting’s taking shape things have become a controlled sort of chaos at the compound. Decisions on who will accompany her to Russia—Cassandra’s willing to make nearly all the concessions she can if it means she and Talia will meet—arranging transport and lodgings, doing their best to make sure Talia’s not trying anything. She’s a little...sad that Jason left, but she knows that if he hadn’t this wouldn’t be going the way it is.

It’s perhaps more of a headache for her people than her. However, she’s got her own headache to deal with. One she’s been putting off until she can’t put it off any longer.

In her rooms she picks up her phone and calls Slade. “Talia and I are finally meeting,” she says when he picks up. No need to dance around why she called.

“Good,” satisfaction fills Slade’s voice. There’s a brief moment of silence then he continues. “I’ll need you here with the Titans for a day or two then. Otherwise we won’t be on as strong a footing as we should be.”

Something that wants to be a frown crosses her face. “I can’t leave Slade. If I leave now Talia will suspect something and pull out of the talk. Which would ruin everything,” she explains. She’s worked so hard for this, that throwing it all away now is...unthinkable.

Again brief silence, but there’s an air of disbelief this time. “Cassandra,” there’s a note to his voice that she doesn’t like, but can’t place why. “Without Rose and Jericho I have no heirs, for them to come back to me we need to destroy the Titans. I need you here to deal with Robin.”

“The plan is to bring Robin in first.”

“Plans change,” Slade answers. “It would be far quicker to dose him with what I give you Cassandra than try to win him over at this point.”

Even through the haze something in her revolts at the idea. She can live with herself being numb, but Tim? That would break him in a way he was never meant to be broken. What sort of sister would she be to do that to him?

Drugging him would only make him like her. No, better to stick to the plan. Go to Gotham and draw him out, bring him back here to Tibet. Give him the space he needs to mourn Conner and Steph for real, make him face those emotions he’s been bottling in.

In a way finding Jason was a boon. Tim idolizes Jason in a way he never did Dick, having his idol there to comfort and commiserate with him would only help bring Tim to her side sooner. Nevermind Jason's own conflicted feelings about Tim. Once he  _met_ Tim he'd know.

As the leader of the League Cassandra knows she’d have to have heirs of her own one day, even with Slade’s children. She’d thought Tim the perfect partner, his brains with her talents would make unstoppable children. In that way having Jason is a boon twice over, two partners to father good children.

Yet Slade is willing to throw that all away.

“Even if that’s your plan now I still can’t leave Slade. Not with Talia’s paranoia.” The only logical thing Cassandra can do is stay here, oversee preparations like she’s been doing. Focus on the counter-arguments and points she needs to make to win Talia to her side. Going to the Titans would only be a distraction, and an unnecessary one at that.

“You’re the only one I trust to take care of Robin, Cassandra,” there’s a slickness to Slade’s words. Perhaps if he’d just injected her again she’d be more bending. Thousands of miles away from him and after almost two weeks since her last shot she’s not so obedient.

“There are more than enough members of Titans East to deal with him,” she responds. “You’re just going to have to manage without me.”

Before he can respond she hangs up.

She takes a deep breath and stands. Going to the door she finds Jale waiting patiently outside as expected. “Jale.”

“Yes my lady?”

“Until after Talia and I have met I will not be accepting calls from Deathstroke. Should he call just ignore it.” They might be partners, but he’s being willfully ignorant if he thinks she’s just going to throw away the only chance she might get to reunify nearly all of the League.

-

Moscow in the beginning of June is warmer than Cassandra expects, luckily it was Jale in charge of picking out her clothes not her. So she’s not suffering as much as she might have been.

In a way Moscow’s a lot like London, in that the teeming masses of people are almost too much for her. Like before though she makes herself push through, this might be her only chance and she’s not even going to let herself get in the way.

Tomorrow, tomorrow she’ll meet with Talia, see Jason again, perhaps even meet Damian. Tomorrow, if everything works out, the League will change for the better.

-

The meeting place is an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It has no connections to Talia, excepting that it’s Jason who recommended the spot. Insisting that since he wanted both parties to be on even footing they’d get together in a completely neutral place.

Cassandra’s people have gone over it with a fine tooth comb, as have Talia’s Cassandra’s sure. Nothing out of the ordinary, no trap doors or secret rooms. Just a warehouse with a fairly open front half, with offices and the like in the back half. The perfect place for two parties wary of each other to meet.

“I don’t like this,” Pyotr says for what must be the tenth time.

Jale doesn’t even look up from her tablet anymore, Cassandra herself keeps staring out the window. “You don’t have to like it,” she explains patiently. “You only have to watch my back and make sure we get out alive should things go wrong.” This is his first real mission, he’s allowed to be anxious, but he also needs to keep a cool head.

“Yes my lady,” he doesn’t sound contrite. The reflection of him in the window still grows more calm, doing his best to take her words to heart.

They reach the warehouse. Cassandra’s glad she doesn’t share Pyotr’s nerves, otherwise she’s sure she might not ever step out of the car. Talia’s car is already there, while that usually might spell misfortune Cassandra’s willing to give Talia that. Cassandra’s got an uphill battle ahead of her already, no use adding more to it. She, Jale, and Pyotr make their way inside.

Talia is seated at an old table—which had previously been in the corner of the warehouse—Jason’s in the seat next to her. Behind them are some of Talia’s guards—all women save for Ubu...and Damian. They’re all armed, granted Cassandra and her own people are armed too—even if the gun in Cassandra’s holster is more token than anything.

“Hey Cass,” Jason gives her a slice of a smile.

Rolling her eyes will only encourage him, so instead she kicks his shin after she takes a seat. If Talia notices she doesn’t comment, Damian however snickers.

“So you’re Cassandra Cain then?” Talia’s voice isn’t dismissive, but it’s near enough. “You look far more like your mother than I expected you to.”

She means it as an insult, but it just passes right through Cassandra. Lady Shiva and David Cain might be her parents, but they mean nothing to her. Just two more awful people in a world full of them. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

It goes from there.

It’s hard to tell whether or not Cassandra is making headway with Talia or not, but she pushes on. They talk for hours, going back and forth. Only stopping long enough to send Jale and one of Talia’s assassins to get food—they come back with decent Hungarian.

Halfway through the meal the building shakes. And again. Talia has the decency not to accuse her of plotting something. Granted it’s hard to accuse Cassandra of having an ulterior motive when it’s Deathstroke who steps through the hole Match makes.

Shit.

It’s not just Deathstroke and Match either. Sun Girl swoops in and with a laugh starts sending beams of light everywhere.

Which seems to be the sign for everyone to spring into action. Cass is doing her best to dodge Sun Girl while laying out a few choice curses for Slade, so much for trusting your partner. “Found you!” Sun Girl sings out as she dives for Cassandra.

Two shots ring out right next to Cassandra. One hits Sun Girl’s shoulder, the other her neck. “Asshole!” Sun Girl screeches as she tries to staunch the bleeding.

Cassandra turns, expecting Pyotr, surprised to find it’s Jason. “Come on.” He grabs her by the arm and starts pulling her towards the door leading to the back area.

There’s a flicker of relief to see Pyotr covering Jale and Talia as everyone else has the same idea. Some of Talia’s people are covering the retreat and only just managing to hold their own against Slade and Match. Damian’s got his sword out, but Talia’s got a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back with her as she shoots cover fire.

“For once it seems I’m not the target.” Talia’s green eyes are flinty as they look at Cassandra.

Talia might want an answer, but Cassandra’s not going to give it to her. “There are others on his team,” she instead says. “They might be here or they might not.” She decides against warning specifically against Interia, if only because they’d already know if he was here. “The cars’ll have been taken care off, we need another way out.”

“Mother let me out, I can take him.”

“You’re seven short-stack,” Jason’s voice has Damian glaring at him. “And unless you’ve got Kryptonite somewhere on you, you won’t last five minutes.” Carefully they all back into the hallway that splits the back in two, eyes and ears open for anyone who might be lurking about.  
  
Damian looks like he’s going to attack Jason—Damian needs better training if he think attacking an ally when your enemies are at the door is a good idea—Talia stops him thankfully. “I need you here with me Damian.”

Even as they make their way back the sounds of fighting don’t get any further away. The building shakes again, Cassandra would guess that if Slade can’t kill them directly, collapsing the building on them will work just as well.

“I’ve got a bike out back, but it’ll only fit three people max.” Jason’s tall enough he can shoot over Abu and Pyotr’s shoulders, the sound is almost too loud in such a small space.

“Damian will be one of them,” Talia’s voice brooks no argument.

Betrayal shocks through Damian, and he opens his mouth to protest, but again Talia stops him. “I know you want to fight, but I need to know you’re safe. Your destiny is for greater things than dying in a fight.”

They’re at the last door separating them from the outside of the building. “Abu, we shall stay here and hold off Jason and Damian being tailed.” Talia rolls her shoulders back and plants herself. “Get back to the safehouse, grab what you can, then run,” she directs at Jason.

Cass respects that. It would perhaps be better for her to stay and fight, it’s only her Slade’s possibly after—although she doubts he won’t pass up the opportunity to get Talia too. But she’s also got her own people to think off.

“Pyotr, Jale.” Jale looks terrified out of her mind, she was never meant to be a field operative, but Pyotr nods. “You two need to go back to Tibet, scatter everyone.” If Slade’s decided their partnership is over, than she can at least deny him her assassins. “Destroy everything and disbandon the spies.”

“Yes my lady.” Pyotr heads for the door.

Jason stops him before he can open it however. “Someone on the other side,” he keeps his voice a whisper.

Rolling her own shoulders Cassandra nods. “I’ll deal with them.” She’s the one who’s trained with nearly all the Titans East after all, if anyone will know a weakness it’ll be her.

“I’ll cover you.” Jason reloads his gun and faces the door.

She throws it open and rolls out. A flash of green and a masculine grunt of surprise are the only clues she gets before Risk is on her.

“Shouldn’t have betrayed us,” he hisses, anger in his eyes.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything. Talking in a fight means you’ve already lost. He might be atop her, but she’s got enough space to kick him in the balls. His grip loosens and in a flash she’s the one with the upper hand. It’s easy enough to get her arm around his neck, enough strength in her to snap it.

Jason gives a nod and scoops Damian up, much to the boy’s protests. As he uncovers a bike next to a dumpster Pyotr leads Jale away, they’ll disappear into the Moscow bustle and make their way to Tibet. She hopes.

A warm hand grabs her arm and she moves without thinking. Only just stopping herself from hitting Jason. “Woah, woah.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Come on,” he tugs her towards the bike as he thrusts a helmet into her hands. “We’re blowing the popsicle stand.”

“I’m staying.” Like Talia she needs to buy her people as much time as she can.

Jason gives her a look, determination thrumming through him. “Look, I’m not gonna give you some speech about living to fight another day, or about how the world can’t lose someone like you. Sure I like you worlds more than I like Slade,” she breaks free of his hold but he snatches her arm again. “But I’m gonna be honest Cass, I’m doing this out of pure fucking spite. Slade fucked a good thing up and like hell I’m a going to let him get what he wants.”

“He’ll follow us.” Yet she finds herself resisting less than she was before. Letting him adjust the helmet on her head.

“Let him try,” Jason snorts. “Dickie handed Slade his ass more than a few times, think we’ll be able to handle him. First we need to wait for the dust to clear and get the new lay of the land.”

“Todd,” anger thrums through all of Damian. “I demand we go back. I will not let my mother face a two-bit assassin and his goons alone.”

The look Jason gives her is quickly covered by his own helmet, but she reads it well enough.

Strike, strike, and Damian’s out for the count.

Jason climbs on the bike, using his legs and arms to hold Damian upright. She doesn’t let herself think twice before climbing on back.

The bike rumbles into life and Jason peels away.

Cassandra clings tightly as they head back into Moscow proper. This isn't a rebirth, but Cass knows it's a chance for her to change once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it. I am working on part two (when I _should_ be working on part two of Jason Pond...(which I recommend you check out, I promise it'll be Jay/Cass later...eventually...)), but have no real idea when I'll be finished. It might have fewer characters, but there's definitely more moving parts as it were; it'll also probably be longer.
> 
> Until then I'm always up for talking Jay/Cass on my tumblrs (also I'm likely to post snippets of part 2 on my writing Tumblr).


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